


Cherish me to sleep

by ohfreckle



Category: Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Family Fluff, Loki's Kids, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:13:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohfreckle/pseuds/ohfreckle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor has to take care of Loki’s kids for the evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherish me to sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [johanirae](http://johanirae.tumblr.com/) who ages ago requested _Thorki - Thor has to take care of Loki’s kids for the evening_. The rest, sap and all, is all my fault. I thought the boys could use a break from all the angst.

A vicious stab to his leg makes Thor crumble to the floor with a pained groan. He falls heavily and clutches his thigh where the first vicious blow hit him, barely dodging another while he is still struggling for breath. 

“I yield, no more, please,” he wheezes, all the breath rushing out of him with the sudden weight that settles heavily on his chest. 

“Ayeeeeee, papa, I win!” Nari exclaims, throwing his arms in the air and bouncing where he is straddling Thor’s chest. He almost stabs Thor in the face with the wooden staff he wields excitedly and only Thor’s finely honed warrior instincts save him from a blackened eye. 

“That you do, Oh Mighty One,” Thor replies gravely. He raises his hands in defeat, but only for a second before he takes hold of Nari, quick as lightning. He tickles the little boy until he squirms and shrieks with laughter, and only stops when Nari’s giggles turn into delighted little hiccups. 

“This is your lesson for today,” Thor laughs heartily. “Feints and trickery. I would tell you more, but this is something best taught by your father.” 

A faint sound carries over to their makeshift battle ground on the living room floor, followed by a silvery laugh. 

“He is not your papa, he is our _uncle_. And he let you win, you silly boy, because otherwise you will just cry again.” 

Hel. 

Thor only barely refrains from sighing at the spiteful words. No matter how often he hears them, they never fail to pierce his chest with a pang of sadness. Loki’s daughter is the perfect image of adolescence, brooding and at odds with everything and everyone. 

“Please try and do not rise to her taunts,” Loki had advised before he left for the evening to attend a diplomatic affair. “Her moods are insufferable enough without you adding to her already numerous complaints.” 

Thor had wisely refrained from mentioning that these days it is him who takes the brunt of her frequently uncharitable moods. He also had kept silent after Loki’s dejected sigh of “I really do not know after whom the child is taking” and distracted him from his worries with an enthusiastic farewell kiss. 

“Father said Thor is our papa now,” Nari insists. He clings to Thor when Thor stands, his little arms not yet long enough to fit around Thor’s wide shoulders. Thor’s heart swells at such a display of trust and he kisses the boy’s flushed cheek affectionately. 

“That is because father is not in his right mind,” Hel explains haughtily. “He is in _looooove._ ” 

“You will not speak like this of your father,” Thor says firmly. He will not fall for her twit and yell, but he will not stand for such rudeness either. “Do you love him so little that you begrudge him his happiness?” 

There is no answer from Hel, only sullen silence. Still, her crossed arms and the mulish look on her face are answer enough for Thor. All of Loki’s children love him dearly and they would never allow any doubt of it. 

Looking at her, her face – half black, half fair skin – set in a fierce scowl, Thor can barely hold back the laugh that threatens to spill from his throat. They would both deny it to their grave, but Hel is Loki’s in every way, just as prone to ill temper and just as proud, unable to admit to even the smallest of faults. 

“Is there something I can assist you with,” Thor inquires politely, taking Loki’s advice to heart. 

He shifts Nari in his arms. The boy’s lips are trembling and Thor prays to all the gods in Valhalla that his argument with Hel did not upset him to the point of tears. He knows a great plenty of ways to dry a woman’s tears, but the tears of children and his brother fill the pit of his stomach with helpless dread. 

“The sun has already set,” Hel says. 

“I am aware of that,” Thor replies. “It is almost time to sleep for you.” 

Hel graces him with a withering glance that tells of what she thinks of such paternalism before a sly smile curls her lips. Thor cannot help but feel like he is about to be called a dimwitted oaf any moment. Fenrir’s growl from where he was sleeping at the fireplace indicates his assent or maybe simply displeasure to be woken by their conversation. 

“It also means it is time to bathe,” Hel says sweetly. Her eyes grow wide and she sighs out a little gasp, her hand flying to cover her mouth in mock surprise. “Forgive me, _papa_ , I forgot you are never here for that. You have more important things to attend to, such as princely duties like drinking all night and rolling in the dirt on the sparring grounds.” 

“I presume you do not need my assistance with your bath,” Thor says, his voice flat. 

He does not need the girl’s barbs to feel guilty for being absent most evenings, especially so shortly after the change in his relationship with Loki. Thor never spent much time with his niece and nephews before, and now that he lives with them as Loki’s lover, the situation has been difficult for all of them. His preparations to take the crown require endless lessons with Odin that often last well into the night and too often he feels guilt weighing him down when he slips between the sheets next to Loki’s already sleeping form. 

“I do not, but if you wish you are most welcome to wash my back,” Hel replies softly. 

Her hips sway gently when she brushes past Thor on her way to the bathing chamber. She stops briefly to caress Nari’s cheek and cast Thor a sultry look from beneath her lashes. 

Thor feels himself blanch. He is aware that young girls sometimes take a fancy towards older men, but surely Hel would not… No, Odin’s Stones, it must have been another of her taunts. The thought alone is outlandish and Loki would– Thor shudders, it does not bear thinking about. 

“Papa, we help,” Nari declares excitedly, patting Thor’s face with his little hands. Thor sets him down and for a moment he is distracted by the boy’s childish joy, right before he is filled again with terror when Nari starts toddling towards the bathing chamber. The door is slightly ajar and already there is the sound of splashing water and Hel singing softly to herself. 

“No,” Thor says, quickly sweeping the boy up into his arms again. _“No.”_ It is too loud, Thor can hear the slight panic in the single word and he knows Hel can hear it, too. In time he will learn how to be a father with Loki’s help, but for today a draw between them will have to suffice. 

“Why? Father always helps us bathe and he is not here today. So _we_ help, yes?” Nari argues. Thor can’t help the smile tugging at the corner’s of his mouth. Nari reminds him of when Loki was a small boy, all sharp wit and perseverance even at such a young age. 

“He helps you because you are still little. But once you are older, like your sister, you will not require his assistance any longer,” Thor explains, combing a hand through the boy’s soft hair. “You will be able to care for yourself, like a true warrior.” 

Nari looks at him, his green eyes narrowed in doubt, biting his lip in thought. “But why do _you_ help father bathe, then? Is something wrong with him?” 

Thor feels his face redden with embarrassment and something else entirely. He recalls the many pleasurable hours he has spent with Loki in the baths and makes a mental note to be more careful in the future, for what transpires there between them is nothing to be witnessed by children. 

“Loki is perfectly fine, do not worry, little one. You see, when two people love each other…” Thor fumbles for the right words and oh, he will make Loki pay for this and enjoy it greatly. To his relief he is saved by Nari who dismisses their conversation with a wave of his hand and a grimace. “Uh, _love_ ,” he says, and that is enough for Thor to put the conversation to rest. 

All lingering awkwardness is forgotten as soon as Thor suggests they visit Sleipnir to wish him a good night. 

Their journey to the stables is short, made easier by Thor letting Nari sit on his shoulders instead of making the boy toddle along. 

The palace is still busy with servants going about their businesses. Many of them smile at them, chuckling at their prince carrying the son of their _other_ prince on his shoulders, spurred along by the boy’s delighted laugh and hands in his hair. 

Sleipnir greets them with a soft neighing and moves slowly towards them, his hooves barely making a sound on the thick litter in his box stall. He has been already groomed for the night, his fair coat shining like spun silver in the dim light of the stables. 

“Down,” Nari demands excitedly and Thor complies with a smile, setting him down and letting him choose an apple from one of the boxes on the floor. Sleipnir accepts the treat with another neigh, the runes that are carved in his teeth clearly visible, and holds still for Nari to stroke his nose and mane. It is a rare show of affection from one sibling to another, and Thor does not disturb them by trying to touch the proud steed. Sleipnir is only Odin’s to command and Loki’s to love and he will rarely accept another’s touch. 

It is over much too soon and Sleipnir quietly trots back to his resting place. 

“We almost never come here,” Nari says, staring longingly at Sleipnir. “Why is that, papa?” 

Thor contemplates the question for a long time. It is not his to answer. He thinks back to the days Sleipnir came to be, the dread that filled him when Loki went missing and the fear for his life after Sleipnir’s birth, how Loki came back with his magic drained and his body battered by his prolonged transformation. He remembers Loki’s face after he gifted Odin with his child, the way his look of pride had crumbled as soon as Loki had left the Great Hall, leaving nothing but raw anguish in its wake. 

“You should ask that your father,” Thor finally answers, unable and unwilling to placate Nari with false words about such a personal matter. Nari seems to sense his truthfulness and be content for the moment, for he simply nods and slides his hand into Thor’s much larger one. 

Their rooms are silent upon their return except for a soft sound coming from behind the closed door of Hel’s room, indicating that she has retreated as she was supposed to but is not yet asleep. Thor lets it slide despite the late hour. Considering that he himself has kept Nari awake well past his bed time he has no reason to be cross with her. 

“Sleep, papa,” Nari says, tugging on Thor’s hand. His face scrunches up with a yawn so great it almost rivals Volstagg’s after a long day of sparring, and he leads Thor to his room, quickly bypassing the door to the bathing chamber with an air of feigned innocence. 

“Off to bed with you, then. You can bathe in the morning,” Thor smiles, taking pity on him. He fondly remembers his days as a boy when baths were still something to be dreaded. “But you must not tell your father,” he whispers while he tugs off Nari’s tunic and leggings, which is no easy feat with the boy already half asleep. 

“I will not tell, papa, I swear,” Nari whispers back, right before he falls asleep while Thor is still tucking his blankets around him. “It is our secret.” 

Back in the main room Thor slumps down heavily in his favorite armchair by the fireplace. Who knew that caring for children would be so tiring? Thor feels a new found respect for Loki who does so every day in addition to his many duties. He will have to find a way to share more evenings with Loki and his children, _their children_ if they will permit it, for never has he known happiness like he feels when he is with them. 

“What about you, Fenrir,” Thor chuckles, holding a hand out for the wolf who is still curled up by the fireplace. “Are _you_ going to be a good boy and take your bath?” 

Fenrir’s snarl would frighten any lesser gods, the deep growl rumbling in his chest answer enough for what he thinks of Thor’s question. 

“I do not think he approves,” Loki laughs, silencing Fenrir with a gentle grip on his neck, his fingers sinking deep into the thick fur. 

Thor wonders briefly just how long Loki has watched him, for he did not even hear him enter their chambers. He must be more tired than he thought, but it matters not, not when Loki slides into his lap and settles against him with a content sigh. 

“Our rooms are still in order, so I take it your evening went well,” Loki says. He sounds tired after long hours of idle talk and negotiations and rests his head against Thor’s shoulder, his eyes already fluttering closed. 

For a moment Thor considers telling Loki about his little quarrel with Hel and the questions that Nari might have for him. But winning Hel’s respect and trust is his own battle battle now, and Nari’s questions are his own to ask. 

“It went well, _sváss_ , there is nothing you need to worry about,” Thor murmurs, shifting Loki closer to him until he is settled against his chest. He presses a soft kiss to Loki’s brow as to not disturb him and watches his brother sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all feedback is much appreciated! For updates, snippets and whinings on my fics, feel free to add me on [tumblr](http://ohfreckle.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](http://twitter.com/ohfreckle)


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